Defragged
by Write0rDie
Summary: Twelve and Clara take jobs at MerrickCorp to solve the mystery of some strange energy readings. The staff are acting strange. Can they find out why before it's too late? Features subtle Australiana, mind control and tech themes. [Warnings: mild cursing, non-graphic death, a bit of blood]
1. Chapter 1

**WEDNESDAY JANUARY 28, 10:23AM AEST +10:00 UTC  
** **MERRICKCORP - QUEENSLAND, AUSTRALIA**

"John, we need to talk."

Greg approached the technician who had his head buried in a tall server rack.

"Bit busy," John said over his shoulder as he looped a very long, blue Cat-6 cable around his neck as a kind of temporary storage.

Greg took a step closer. "We've had some complaints about the outstanding tickets," he continued, keeping his voice measured. The tech was new after all.

John finally pulled his grey head out of the cabinet and gave his supervisor a blank look.

"You know the helpdesk tickets?" Greg prompted.

".. Yes?"

"There are two hundred and seventy-four of them."

John said nothing in reply, but his eyes roamed the ceiling briefly under those expressive eyebrows. It was as if he had no idea whether two hundred and seventy-four was a good or bad number of tickets to have.

"You're supposed to fix the things in the tickets," Greg said patiently. "Starting with the most critical issues."

"Yes. I know," John said curtly. "That's what I'm trying to do." He turned back to his rack and started methodically patching cables into the router, each one making a satisfying click as it snapped into place.

Greg was not used to this sort of thing happening in the I.T. Department. His regular In-House Tech was polite, efficient and ploughed through helpdesk tickets at a rate of knots. The number of tickets had never exceeded fifty, even on a bad day. That was, until the accident, and subsequent appointment of Mr John Smith.

Greg took a step back to survey the scene and nearly tripped on something. The normally immaculate server room was strewn with cables and boxes of computer components. There was an enormous blue something in the corner, half shrouded in a plastic drop sheet and glowing dimly in a pattern that looked somewhat like small window panes. A new rack perhaps? Greg was tempted to ask how he'd managed to fit its bulk through the door, but there were more pressing issues.

"The Wi-Fi's down on the third floor, again," Greg said, competing over the hum of cooling fans which only seemed to get louder as he spoke.

"Yes, I know."

Greg paused for a moment, expecting some kind of apology or perhaps an explanation, but after none was forthcoming, he decided to change the subject. "The boss would also like to know if we're 'storm ready'."

John paused mid-patch. He turned slowly back towards Greg with a serious look on his face. "Which storm, exactly?"

Greg was stunned. He thought that it would be obvious; it was all over the news and an announcement had been made to all the staff via email and on the company intranet.

"The category 3 cyclone due to make landfall tomorrow," Greg said gesturing towards the far window in exasperation. The view to outside was nothing but a sheet of grey and it was raining heavily on an angle.

"Oh, yes that! Big swirly thing. Yes." He waved at Greg dismissively before turning his back.

Greg sighed heavily. "So I can tell the boss we have backup power available to the servers, if the main supply cuts out?" Greg made no attempt to hide his growing annoyance.

"Yes," John said, leaving his patching for a moment to placate his supervisor who was looking more agitated by the second.

John slapped a hand down on Greg's shoulder, hard. He flinched at the unexpected contact.

"We have onsite backups," John said as he turned Greg around and pointed him towards the door. "Offsite backups. Very secure location - practically impenetrable!"

He gave Greg a little shove forward as he continued. "We have surge protectors, UPS, generators, alternate power supply, redundant internet connection, a fridge full of energy drinks and, a very large packet of jelly babies."

Greg seemed a little less tense when he got to the door. How was it that this man, this strange, Scottish I.T. veteran had managed to dismiss him? There was an air of authority about him and Greg felt powerless to question him any further.

"Look, Greg," he said, offering a brief grin that was meant to be friendly but it came off instead as terrifying. "I don't mean to be rude but as you can see, I'm extremely busy. Two hundred and seventy-two -"

"Four. Two hundred and seventy-four tickets, John," Greg reminded him. "Just, get it under control or your arse is on the line," he said, stabbing his finger into John's chest.

John indulged him with a polite smile. No teeth this time. "Yes, of course."

John's smile fell the moment Greg turned and left, and it was swiftly replaced by a thunderous look of contempt. He quickly found a piece of paper on a nearby desk and, taking a thick black marker, he hastily scribbled a message on it before sticking it to the outside of the door and then slamming it shut behind him.

 **'GO AWAY KNUCKLE DRAGGERS'.**

* * *

 **10:37AM AEST +10:00 UTC**

Clara ignored the sign and entered the I.T. Department.

"Laptop's broken," Clara said bluntly, dropping the wretched piece of equipment over The Doctor's shoulder and onto the desk where he was sitting. He was twisting a screwdriver in a piece of equipment and biting his tongue in concentration.

"Have you submitted a ticket?" The Doctor said casually.

"I can't. Because my laptop's broken," Clara said in a tone that she usually reserved for her more academically challenged students. "Besides, I hear you don't read them anyway."

Her hands were on her hips now. He didn't even need to look around to know it.

"So, how's it going up there in the Ivory Tower? Photocopied anything interesting today?" he teased. "Perfected your tea making?"

"I do anything and everything Mr Stark requires," she said with a sigh. "Unfortunately."

"I thought his name was Merrick."

"Nevermind," Clara said as she leaned up against the desk wearily. "Remind me why I have to be the P.A. again?"

"Personal Assistants are invariably young, pretty and good at bossing people around. You'll do well."

She caught his compliment even through her annoyance. "And what have you found out?"

"Thought you'd never ask." He dropped his screwdriver and tapped a key on his laptop, bringing it out of hibernation. Clara leaned in.

"Take a look at this," he said.

The Doctor fired up the vSphere Client on his laptop. On the left were a list of servers that were running, indicated by a small green 'play' symbol over each icon.

"I'm seeing.. computery.. things," she said squinting at the screen.

The Doctor pointed to an icon. "They're servers. One, two, three," he said as he pointed to each one with his long boney finger.

He started to go into a long-winded explanation of each of their roles, but Clara's interest quickly began to wane.

"Moving on. What are all these ones?" She pointed at the additional icons underneath. There must have been a dozen, with names like 'jreed', 'athompson' and 'kjones'. They were not following the server naming convention at all and sounded more like..

"People," said The Doctor.

"Well, you don't mean _actual_ people, people. Is that their email or something?"

"Don't be ridiculous. The mail is on the first server of course! No cloud-based stuff here. Strictly old school," he said with a quick grin.

"Then, what?"

The Doctor swiveled in his seat to face her. "You remember what brought us here? The lightning strike. Strange energy readings."

"The promise of an exotic, tropical destination," she said dryly.

The Doctor ignored her and continued. "Well, these new virtual servers started appearing straight after that."

"So what are they for?"

"No idea," he said leaning back in the chair. The Doctor chewed his fingernail thoughtfully for a second. "Can't shut them down but I can pause them."

He leaned forward and right-clicked on the virtual machine marked 'jreed'. The mouse arrow hovered over the 'suspend' command.

* * *

On the second floor, accountant Jason Reed finished his morning coffee and set his mug aside next to the other four.

He finished his report to the Board of Directors, attached it to a new email and hit send.

An email notification popped up almost immediately. _Jason, you've sent this to me four times this morning!_

Jason ignored it. It was time for his morning coffee. Again.

* * *

The Doctor pressed 'suspend' and waited. Clara squatted down at the side of the desk and rested her head on her arms as they both stared at the screen.

"Who's jreed then?" she asked.

"Jason Reed. Accounts Department, apparently."

Clara suddenly recognised the name from an email. "Oh, I know him. He keeps asking for my tax file number."

The Doctor looked up from his laptop. "Well then, I think we should pay Mr Reed a visit."

* * *

In the staff kitchen, Jason started to pour milk from the two-litre bottle into the milk frother. He watched impassively as the milk reached the maximum line and kept going. Then it reached the top of the frother and spilled over the side, and yet he made no attempt to stop. The milk cascaded over the bench and onto the floor until the entire container was empty.

"Jesus! Jason, what are you doing?" It was Karen, his colleague, coming in to get a biscuit to dunk in her tea.

She took the bottle out of Jason's hand as he stood there in a trance. Karen started pulling great swathes of paper towel off the dispenser to cover the bench, the floor and Jason's shoes, which were now splattered with milk.

"Nevermind, we'll get this cleaned up," she said as Jason just stood there staring blankly at the wall, his arm still outstretched.

As she crouched down to dab at his shoes, Jason, with great effort, moved his arm down to a tray of Scotch Finger biscuits. He began to sweat at the effort of what he was about to do. A sense of panic overtook him but he pressed on, arranging the biscuit planks on the bench to spell out his plea.

 **'HELP ME!'**


	2. Chapter 2

**11:14AM AEST +10:00 UTC**

Jason Reed sat in his cubicle. Karen had guided him back there after the milk frother incident and forced him to sit down. He seemed compliant enough but otherwise unresponsive.

The Doctor now stood over Jason, examining him with the sonic.

"I think we should call an ambulance," Karen said looking at Jason's pale face and blank stare. "He doesn't look well."

"Ah, no," Clara said in panic. "The Doctor will take care of him. Won't you Doctor?" she asked hopefully. He said nothing as he ran the sonic down Jason's arm which seemed still stuck in an outstretched position.

" _Doctor?_ " Karen said in confusion. "Isn't he the I.T. guy?"

"Um. He's both," Clara said. "He _was_ a Medical Doctor but he was ah.. struck off. For.. for locking a co-worker in a cupboard," she added hastily. "He loves pranks!"

Karen moved away from The Doctor slightly. She didn't quite look convinced of his credentials but this 'Doctor' seemed to be taking charge of the situation.

"He'll be ok," Clara said to her kindly. "We'll look after him."

Karen nodded and reluctantly headed back to her workstation.

Clara turned back towards The Doctor as he flicked the sonic off and slipped it back into his jacket.

"What's wrong with him?" Clara asked in a whisper.

"Let's ask him."

"Doctor, he's practically catatonic," she said gesturing towards the patient. "And.. possibly dribbling." Clara tilted her head as she watched a small trickle of saliva building in the corner of his mouth.

The Doctor ignored her and splayed his fingers, gently placing them on Jason's forehead. He closed his eyes and exhaled deeply, like he was entering a meditative state.

"Coming?" he asked, holding out his other hand.

Clara looked around briefly. No one was watching them, thank God. It looked like they were about to perform some kind of seance.

She took The Doctor's hand and closed her eyes, as it seemed like the most appropriate thing to do.

"You don't need to close your eyes," he said over his shoulder.

"Oh."

The Doctor focused again and when he finally spoke, his voice took on a friendly tone, as if he was trying to coax a startled animal out of a corner. "Jason? Hello, I'm The Doctor and this is-"

"Hello? Hello!" came Jason's desperate, shaky voice. "Can you help me?"

"Yes."

"Oh, thank God," he said. Jason's voice sounded raw like he'd been crying.

Clara could hear their voices but their mouths weren't moving. They were speaking telepathically, and she was eavesdropping like a kid listening in on a phone extension.

"Can you tell us what happened, Jason?" asked The Doctor.

"I.. I came in on Monday, and did my usual work," Jason explained. "We had a storm late arvo. A huge lightning strike hit the building, knocking the power out for a bit. And then just as I was about to leave, something really weird happened."

"What kind of weird, exactly?" asked The Doctor.

"I couldn't move from my desk. I had to just sit here all night."

"Didn't somebody notice you here at your desk after hours?" Clara piped up. She wasn't aware of actually speaking it, it was just a thought.

"The cleaner came in but she just vacuumed under me," Jason said. "And then, on the dot of 8.30am the next morning, I just started doing my usual work, automatically, in a kind of loop. I couldn't stop."

"You must be exhausted," The Doctor said finally.

"Actually, it's worse than that," Jason said with a hint of embarrassment.

"How?"

"I really need to pee."

* * *

The Doctor and Clara rolled Jason along on his office chair, down the hallway and towards the lift. He started to tilt to the right so Clara tried to push Jason upright and keep up with The Doctor's long-legged pace.

Clara stopped in front of the lift doors and pressed the button. The Doctor kept going, with Jason on the chair.

"Doctor? The lift is here."

"Yes, I know," he said, finally stopping. "We're going to the gents. Or in the local vernacular, the dunny," he said grinning.

"You are seriously, not, taking a grown man to the loo!" she said in horror.

"Clara, you heard the man. He hasn't been since Monday. All that coffee. He's in agony!"

Clara looked mortified.

"Oh, come on Clara. I'd do the same for you-"

"Enough!" she said holding her hand up. "That is wrong, on _so_ many levels." Clara retreated away from them both.

"Where are you going then?"

"H.R. Department," she called from down the hallway. "I have a hunch!"

* * *

 **HR DEPARTMENT 11:47AM AEST +10:00 UTC**

Clara knocked politely before entering. "Hello Barbara. Bit of a favour.."

"Hmm?" Barbara said, looking over her glasses. She was the sort of person of whom favours were asked regularly, and she looked positively weary of it.

"We need a list of all the employees, sorted by duration of employment."

"We?" Barbara asked. "Who's we?"

"Mr Merrick. It's for.. an award. Yes! He's giving awards to the longest serving employees."

Barbara sighed. She could hardly refuse The Boss, or this girl who had been noticeably more polite than most of her visitors. She tapped away at her computer for a moment before hitting print.

"Thank you," Clara said sweetly as the printer began to whir to life.

Barbara took the printouts and brought them around to the front of the desk where Clara was standing. She stabbed at the page with her red painted fingernail. "Scrub her off. She's worked here six years and three of them have been on maternity leave. Bloody breeders," she seethed as she handed the papers over.

Barbara headed back to her chair. "You're not planning any of that business are you? Or not planning it, as is frequently the case."

Fortunately, Clara was already out the door and gone.

* * *

Clara decided to make a quick detour before heading back down to see how The Doctor was getting on with Jason. If her hunch was right, she'd need hard evidence. The lift doors opened on the third floor. It was a ghost town.

Many of the staff had left for the day after being told that the cyclone floodwaters were rising in the outer suburbs. The threat of being trapped overnight at the office was enough to get people moving swiftly out the door, and now only about a dozen staff remained in the building.

Clara did a quick check of the floor.

Stephen was in his cubicle playing solitaire.

Alyse was looking at cat videos.

Michael was on Reddit.

Situation normal.

There was only one way to tell if these workers were under mind control.

Clara went over to the emergency public address system at the wall and pressed the button.

She cleared her throat loudly. "Attention.. office workers. There is a fire in the lunch room. Please evacuate the floor immediately."

Nobody moved. "Off you pop," she added.

After a long silence she tried again.

"Attention. Mr Merrick has put a tab on at the local pub. A reward for all your _hard_ work," she said sarcastically. "Free drinks for anyone who leaves now."

Nothing. Not a single employee got up. The only sound was the distant clicking of computer mouses and the heavy rain drumming against the glass windows.

"Thought so."

* * *

 **IT DEPARTMENT 12:13PM AEST +10:00 UTC**

Clara entered the office, printouts in hand. Jason was still on the office chair, although a long Cat-6 cable had been wound around his waist, securing him firmly.

He was was now parked up against the TARDIS and his head was leaning against the blue box like a drunkard, sans dribble. The Doctor had been kind enough to wipe his face with a tissue, to preserve some dignity at least in his paralysed state.

"Look at this," said Clara, laying the printouts on the desk.

The Doctor pitched the tissue into the bin and came over.

"List of employees," she said, smoothing the paper out. "The longest serving twelve are all still in the building. Aside from this one who's on leave," she said pointing to employee number five.

"Doctor, this mind control thing is only effecting the company veterans. I went around and checked. They're all in a trance at their computers."

The Doctor said nothing as he scanned the printout carefully.

"Everyone else has gone home because of the cyclone," Clara continued. "Which, by the way, should we be worried about that at all?"

"Not really. Bit of a stiff breeze. A lot of rain. If the roof blows off we'll just jump in the TARDIS and-"

" _If_ the roof blows off! Doctor!"

"Relax, Clara. The building is cyclone-rated."

"Are you sure about that?" Clara said. She could swear the building was swaying, or perhaps it was because she hadn't bothered with breakfast.

"It's not a big deal. The locals go through this almost every year," he explained. "They put their outdoor furniture away. Tether down their smaller pets." He was suddenly struck by a thought. "Come to think of it. If the wind picks up I might have to tether you to something!"

Clara crossed her arms. She was not amused.

The Doctor looked down at the list again. Employee number one was, predictably, Roger Merrick, The Boss. Jason Reed was second.

"Well Clara, if you're right, Mr Merrick will be upstairs, a dribbling mess, scrolling through acres of soft pornography on his computer."

"Doctor!"

"Clara, I've seen the logs. I know what everyone is up to. Even you. _And_ I'm blocking Pinterest by the way," he said, pointing at her accusingly.

Clara scowled. "I need to go. I have _work_ to do," she said snatching up the printouts off the desk.

"Yes, right. Work," he said watching her leave. "You see what's going on up there. I'll try and figure out what's happened to Mr Reed's brain."

The door slammed and The Doctor turned his attention back to Jason.

He maneuvered the man into a more upright position, then took his glasses off and put them to one side.

"Now, Jason. You just hold still," The Doctor said sticking a strip of electrical tape onto Jason's forehead.

Jason couldn't move if it he tried, but it was nice of The Doctor to make friendly conversation all the same.

There were wires leading from under the tape to an array of monitoring devices on the nearby desk. An old monitor was hooked up to the equipment and a series of graphs soon began to appear on the screen.

The graphs spiked. The Doctor's eyebrows shot up in surprise.

* * *

Clara entered the Executive Offices.

"Mr Merrick," she sang out. "Would you like a cup of tea?" She flicked the kettle on before his reply came. If he was under mind control, she would probably need a strong cup herself.

"Boil the billy, love. White with two, just the usual," came her Boss's voice from the adjacent office.

Apparently the TARDIS translation circuits didn't do Australian slang. She made a mental note to have a word with The Doctor about that later.

Clara smiled with relief. Merrick sounded perfectly all right.

She finally took the cup of tea into his office, along with a stack of mail.

"Could you fax this for me?" he asked as she set the cup in front of him.

Clara took the A4 sheet from him and turned to leave, but then suddenly realised she'd seen it before. "Mr Merrick, I faxed this for you this morning, remember?"

He smiled at her but it was the sickening, ghastly grin of a man possessed. His eyes were completely bloodshot and he seemed to look straight through her.

"Boil the billy, love. White with two, just the usual," he said again.

"Excuse me?"

"Could you fax this for me?" he repeated.

"Mr Merrick, are you all right?"

"Boil the b-"

Mr Merrick suddenly collapsed over the desk, his head making a loud thump as it connected with the marble top. The tea spilled and Clara quickly grabbed the cup and set it aside.

She gingerly poked his tea-soaked arm, but he didn't move. Clara quickly checked for a pulse at his neck. He was dead.

She grabbed the phone on Merrick's desk and dialed 138 - The I.T. Department.

The Doctor answered. _"I.T. Department. Have you tried turning it off and on again?"_

"Doctor, it's me! I think you'd better get up here."

 _"Why would I do that? Jason and I are having a lovely chat."_

"It's Mr Merrick. He's dead."

 _".. And?"_

"And! Doctor, a man has just died!"

The Doctor's tone suddenly got very serious. "Yes, Clara," he said solemnly. "And there are ten more people still alive, and I intend for them to stay that way."


	3. Chapter 3

**IT DEPARTMENT 12:57PM AEST +10:00 UTC**

Jason suddenly sat up straight. The cabling that tethered him to the chair strained with the movement, but continued to hold him firmly. He turned his head stiffly toward The Doctor.

"Doctor John Smith," he said tonelessly.

The Doctor spun around, phone receiver still at his ear. "Jason! Back with us at last! How did you-"

"We are not Jason," he said flatly.

The Doctor looked puzzled. ".. Yes you are."

 _"Doctor? Is Jason awake?"_ It was Clara, listening in over the phone.

"Clara, I'll call you back," he said into the handset before tossing it over his shoulder.

The Doctor approached cautiously, noting the readings on the nearby monitor which were very unusual indeed. ".. Ok, Not-Jason."

Jason's bloodshot eyes tracked The Doctor as he approached. "Query; You are a technician," he asked.

"Yes but-"

"Our hardware is failing," Not-Jason said quickly. His voice was emotionless, but it somehow conveyed a sense of urgency, almost a plea.

"Hardware?" The Doctor said stepping closer. "You mean, the people you've borrowed."

Not-Jason's eyes roamed the room as if he were searching for something. "The organic hardware is ill-fitting," he said.

"Then why did you possess these people in the first place?" The Doctor asked in a low tone.

He stared blankly as if the answer were obvious. "We had no choice. The server filled. There was no more disk space."

The Doctor silently cursed as he remembered Ticket #37. He'd meant to get to that, but with so many critical tickets it was hard to know which one to do first.

"So you looked for other hosts," The Doctor concluded.

Not-Jason's head fell forward in a limp nod. For a body-less alien, he was certainly getting the hang of human body language. "Their brains are tiny and they use so little of them."

"Tell me about it," The Doctor said wearily, rolling his eyes. He ran his hands quickly through his grey curls, turning away for a moment.

"We optimised them," he said. "Augmented their hardware with virtual machines, repeating their most common tasks."

"Ah, office drones, living their lives on repeat," The Doctor said quietly. "Oh, the symbolism." He closed his eyes as the pieces of the puzzle came together in his mind.

It all made sense now; the virtual machines controlling the workers, the zombie-like behaviour, the same tasks being repeated over and over again to make room for these alien visitors in their minds. The Doctor's frown deepened.

"They become inefficient," Not-Jason continued.

The Doctor spun around towards him. "Yes, yes! Because they are human beings. They need sleep, food and water."

Not-Jason tilted his head curiously. "Query; Sleep."

"It's a.. a maintenance cycle," The Doctor explained. "For every 24 hours of operation, they go offline for 8." He noted the growing purple shadow under Jason's eyes. "You should try it!"

"That is.. inefficient."

"I know!" The Doctor said gesturing wildly. He came close to Jason now and crouched down to his eye line.

"And that's not even getting to their nutritional needs! Their hardware requires almost constant food and water. Otherwise it fails completely."

He was deliberately gesturing to Jason's body now, hoping that the 'thing' possessing him would get the hint. His days, no hours, of inhabiting the shell of Jason were numbered.

Not-Jason considered this new information. "We did not know this. The hardware is incompatible," he concluded finally.

The Doctor sprung up. "Well, I'm glad you think so. You came to Earth in the lightning storm a few days ago?"

"Yes. We are travellers. We were knocked off course."

The Doctor almost felt sorry for them. It was one thing to deliberately invade, and quite another to crash land in a storm and borrow bodies for your own survival. They didn't deliberately kill Merrick, they just didn't have an operating manual to know better.

"I'm sorry that happened to you," The Doctor said solemnly. "But you can't stay in these bodies any more. They're going to die, and you along with them."

The Doctor's eyes were somehow both piercing and full of compassion. "If I help you get on your way, will you let these people go?"

Not-Jason considered the offer for a moment. "Yes. Your offer is sound. We accept."

"Glad to hear it." The Doctor sighed with relief. It wasn't often that aliens could be convinced to leave peacefully. Although it wasn't over yet.

"The atmospheric conditions are problematic," he admitted. "But you're in luck. The cyclone has an eye. You can get out when it passes over us. Shouldn't be too long. It's ahead of schedule."

The door was suddenly kicked open with explosive force.

"Clara! Just in time for-"

The Doctor turned to see the figure of a woman standing in the doorway; tall and slim with unruly ginger hair held high in a pony tail. Not Clara then.

She was clutching The Doctor's sign in her good hand, the other was heavily bandaged. Her eyes widened as she scanned the room. She took in the mess and Jason Reed tied to a chair in the corner. What little colour she had in her face, drained that instant.

Before The Doctor could even formulate an appropriate greeting, the woman took a step forward, brandishing a Phillips-head screwdriver.

"Who are you, and what the bloody hell are you doing in my server room?"

The Doctor ignored the swearing and smiled pleasantly. "I'm The Doctor, Systems Administrator. I'm sure you've met Jason," he said gesturing towards the slumped form in the corner.

"Lovely," she said dryly. "I'm gone for five minutes and they hire someone else." She blew out a breath and let the screwdriver drop to her side.

"Wendy," she said with a forced smile. " _Ex_ -SysAdmin."

She brushed past him and made a bee-line for the desk, where she cut the plastic hospital wristband from her arm and tossed it aside.

"Look, Wanda-"

"It's Wendy," she said bluntly.

"Sorry, Wendy. Look, I don't want your job," he said with a giddy laugh. "Really, I don't."

He pointed towards the offices beyond the door. "I'm surrounded by pudding brains and sociopaths. There's not enough money. Not enough time. And all the users think their tickets are urgent when clearly they're not."

Wendy looked noticeably relieved at his confession and rubbed her bandaged hand absently.

The Doctor came close, a little too close for her liking. "I only have one ticket to sort and then I'm out of here. The job's yours."

He ran excitedly over to the large screen on the wall, which displayed a rolling helpldesk ticket list.

"It's the ultimate ticket," he explained. "The helpdesk ticket to end all tickets! Number two hundred and seventy-five." He stabbed at the number on the screen with his long boney finger.

"Save Merrickcorp," he said with a grin. "Thirty minutes. Max. What do you say?" The Doctor said with a casual shrug.

"Still can't believe there are two hundred and seventy-five outstanding tickets," Wendy said sourly.

"Forget about the other tickets," he said flapping his hands. "They're not important."

Wendy eyed him suspiciously but didn't respond. Instead she opened the bar fridge and awkwardly popped a can of 'Mother' with her one functioning hand.

She took a slurp of her energy drink and considered the offer. Wendy thought about how she would very much like her job back. Thirty minutes and he'd be out of her hair. How bad could thirty minutes with this old fart be?

"Deal," she said finally with a nod.

The Doctor looked puzzled. "Don't you want to know why your colleague is tied to a chair?" he said, pointing towards Jason who was now dribbling in the corner.

"I'm sure you were about to get to that."

* * *

The Doctor gave Wendy the condensed version of events leading up to Jason's current predicament. She readily accepted it as truth, having no evidence to dispute The Doctor's claims, and she knew that Jason was not the sort to indulge in recreational drugs. As far as she knew, he wasn't into bondage either.

Also she just wanted her server room back, and avoiding an argument with the mad Scotsman seemed the quickest way to get rid of him.

The door swung open. It was Clara this time.

Hurried but pleasant introductions were made, and with everyone caught up on the basic facts, the team was ready to spring into action.

"You've got red on you!" Wendy said with a laugh, suddenly noticing Clara's blouse which was splattered with red ink. Her face fell when she saw that Clara wasn't joining in on the joke, and it wasn't because she didn't understand the pop culture reference.

"That's.. not red pen is it?" Wendy said cautiously, although she wasn't sure she wanted to know the answer.

"No. No, it's not," Clara said quietly.

The Doctor pinned her with a concerned gaze. "Clara, are you hurt?" he said, reaching for her shoulder.

"No," she shook his hand away. "It's Mr Merrick. They, ah, the workers upstairs. They tried to resurrect him with.. computer bits."

Clearly she was distressed but was putting on a brave face.

Wendy scrambled to fix the situation. "Here," she said grabbing a spare t-shirt from a nearby cabinet. "Take it. Might be a bit big but, it'll do."

"Thank you," Clara said, disappearing around the corner to change.

The Doctor snapped his fingers and pointed at Wendy. "You. Ginger Ninja. Do you have any mobile phones?"

She quickly crossed the room and pulled open the top drawer of her desk. It was filled with a variety of phones and assorted junk. There were old candy bar style handsets, and smartphones of all kinds along with their associated chargers.

"How many do you need?" asked Wendy.

"All of them."

* * *

The Doctor was busy splicing cables. Wendy sat beside him, fossicking through the pile of phones.

"Can I do something?" Clara asked, hovering behind them in Wendy's bright orange Spiceworks t-shirt.

He leaned back, glancing past Clara and over to Jason.

"Jason's looking a little peaky," he said quietly to Clara. "See if you can get some fluids into him."

Clara hurried over. She pushed him upright and touched her hand to his face in concern. He was dreadfully pale and his lips were beginning to look cracked from dehydration. She grabbed some bottled water from the fridge and twisted it open.

"Actually, we need to setup a zombie triage," The Doctor said over his shoulder. "Clara, I'm appointing you First Aid Officer."

"Zombies? Is that seriously what we're calling them?" she asked.

He ignored her and continued. "I need you to find an open space near a bathroom. We'll need water. Lots of it. And something that passes as food."

Wendy offered a suggestion. "Third floor Rec Area would by my pick," she said, blowing the dust off an old Blackberry.

"Bingo," The Doctor said pointing to Wendy before turning quickly to face Clara again.

His tone was low and serious. "Clara, when this is all over they're going to be confused, disorientated, exhausted. It'll happen quickly. They'll need organising."

"Got it."


	4. Chapter 4

High winds and heavy rain are never the best conditions for climbing a telecommunications tower. But there they were; the Doctor and Wendy carefully navigating the antenna at the top of the MerrickCorp building.

It was early evening, or at least it looked that way. The street lights were on and the heavy, dark cyclone clouds swirled overhead. It was raining heavily. Palm trees bent in the wind and stormwater drains swelled under the unrelenting downpour.

Back on the tower, The Doctor was in the lead, deftly scaling the structure with a daisy chain of mobile phones hanging around his neck.

Wendy climbed higher with the rain stinging her face and soaking her to the bone. Her boot slipped on the slick metal. She struggled to hang on with her bandaged hand and swore under her breath.

"You ok?" The Doctor yelled down at her.

"Yep." Wendy regained her footing and pulled herself up.

The Doctor straddled one of the high metal beams and pulled out his sonic.

Lightning flashed nearby, briefly illuminating them both and Wendy suddenly realised how high up they were. A clap of thunder rang out. The Doctor didn't even flinch.

"We're going to boost the signal using these antennas here."

He held the sonic between his teeth for a moment and carefully tethered the chain of mobile phones to the antenna.

The Doctor pointed his sonic out towards them and suddenly the phones all lit up at once, each one chiming with their start-up tune in a kind of demented digital symphony.

The Doctor grinned madly. Wendy smiled back as she clung to the beam.

"Now what?" she asked.

"Now, we wait."

The Doctor looked up. The cyclone's eye-wall approached along with the storm's most volatile weather. The winds were at their height now and the a ring of towering thunderstorms stretched up and up through the circling clouds.

Suddenly the wind died down and the clouds parted to reveal the night sky.

They were in the eye of the storm.

* * *

Clara wheeled Jason into the elevator and pressed the button for floor three.

"Won't be long now, Jason," Clara said, patting him on the shoulder. "You'll be back paying bills in no time. Or whatever it is you do up there."

Jason sat motionless. He looked like he would keel over at any minute.

The doors opened with a ding. Clara found the Rec Area easily enough and parked Jason in the corner.

She busted the lock on the store room and hauled out two pallets of bottled water and a huge box of individually wrapped Tim Tams.

Clara pushed some couches over and arranged a pile of colourful bean bags. She stood, hands on hips, admiring her handiwork.

"Ok, Jason. Let's do this."

* * *

The Doctor held out his sonic towards the cluster of antennas high above them. There was a low whirring sound and the air around them seemed to vibrate with energy. Wendy's hair began to stand on end and a peculiar tingling sensation ran over her skin as the charge began to build.

The phones suddenly rang out in unison. The call connected and it appeared that data was beginning to upload, boosted by the antennas and streaming off into the cosmos.

Sparks erupted somewhere above them and Wendy covered her eyes as the glowing particles showered down.

When she looked up, The Doctor was grinning madly again and Wendy wondered why on earth she had agreed to this ridiculous stunt.

"E.T. phone home!" he said giddily.

Lightning struck a nearby building and was followed immediately by a thunderous clap that nearly sent them both deaf. They were both clinging to the tower now and for the first time, The Doctor looked genuinely worried.

"Ah, that was a bit close. Perhaps we should-"

* * *

Jason suddenly slumped over in his chair.

There was a dull thump in a nearby office. Clara ran in only to find Michael unconscious with his head on the keyboard.

Alyse staggered out of her office and into the hallway. She tottered for a moment on her heels before collapsing onto the carpet.

Down the hall, Stephen had been playing solitaire for two days straight. It was a particularly good round, which was a real shame because right at that moment, he was released from his trance and he slid off his chair, cracking his head on the side of the desk on the way down.

Just when things couldn't get any worse, the lights went out.

* * *

"You idiot."

It was Clara. He'd know that voice anywhere. And that voice now chastising him. Perhaps if he just pretended to still be unconscious she would..

"I know you're awake."

"Oh, hello Clara", he said cheerily. "Nice to see you again."

The Doctor sat up slowly. He had been laid out on the carpet with not so much as a cushion under his head for comfort.

"Honestly Doctor. Climbing a tower in a cyclone."

"Not sure what happened. Don't like not knowing."

He looked around the room. The remaining staff lay nearby on beanbags and couches, drinking bottled water and eating something wrapped in thin greaseproof paper.

Clara touched his arm tenderly, betraying her true emotions. She was both relieved and worried but hid it behind a thin veil of annoyance.

"You fell from the tower. I hope you haven't broken anything because-"

"Clara. I'm fine," he said getting to his feet. He swayed a bit but Clara was there to steady him. "How did I get here?"

"Wendy dragged you down the stairs."

"Who?"

"Wendy. The ginger one."

The Doctor looked at her blankly.

"Good with computers," Clara prompted.

"Oh, yes. Her," he said dismissively.

"In case you were wondering, everyone is fine," she said, stealing a glance at her colleagues without being too obvious. "Just a bit tired. They're eating something called a chicko roll. It's like a big spring roll. Apparently."

The Doctor ran a hand through his hair, which was still a bit damp from the rain. Someone must have towelled it off.

"By the way, why did I get stuck with the babysitting?" she whispered.

The Doctor made an placating gesture. "Clara. I needed you to look after these people. They're like children. Worse than children. They're users!"

The room went silent.

"No offence," he said with a friendly smile.

"None taken," Jason said as he pressed a bag of frozen peas to Stephen's throbbing head.

* * *

For the next half hour they sat around sharing stories of their horrifying few days under mind control.

They were fed and watered, and much to everyone's delight, The Doctor demonstrated the Double Tim Tam Slam. Oh, the benefits of a respiratory bypass system.

Nobody noticed that The Doctor had discreetly dimmed the lights, creating a kind of artificial dusk. They'd had their bedtime stories and now they needed sleep.

"I think I've got my second wind," Jason said as he stood up.

The Doctor looked unamused. He rose and swiftly planted an index finger on Jason's forehead.

For the briefest second, Jason looked puzzled. Then The Doctor gave him a gentle push backwards and he fell bonelessly onto the nearest beanbag.

The other workers stared wide-eyed and silent.

The Doctor gave them a stern look.

"To bed with the lot of you. Doctor's orders."

* * *

 **IT DEPARTMENT**

"It travels through time and space," Clara said, pulling the plastic drop sheet aside to reveal the TARDIS fully.

Wendy seemed chilled, like she had seen a TARDIS a thousand times before. "Oh, like Bill and Ted."

The Doctor gave her a blank look.

"You know.. Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure. The film," she explained.

Clara piped up. "Don't think he's seen that movie. He's more of a book person," she said knowingly. "One for the Netflix queue hey Doctor?" She patted him on the arm.

"Can I see inside?" Wendy asked.

"Ah, no." The Doctor took her by the arm and steered her towards an office chair. "You can sit down so I can take a look at that hand."

Wendy looked worried but sat obediently.

"It's alright," Clara said. "He's.. kind of a Doctor."

"Kind of? What's that supposed to mean?" Wendy held her sore hand protectively. The bandage was soaked from the rain and now hung loosely at her wrist.

The Doctor let out an exasperated sigh. "Clara, we've been through this before. Glasgow University. I have a certificate and everything."

He gently took Wendy's hand and unwound the bandage.

Clara found a first aid box and brought it over. The burns on the skin looked painful but thankfully there was no major subdermal damage.

"It'll be sore for a while," The Doctor said as he scanned it with the sonic. "Keep it clean and dry. It should heal fine. Take the day off tomorrow."

"Take the day off? Look at all the tickets!"

"Wendy," he said dropping his gaze. "Your boss is dead and there's a cyclone outside. I think the tickets can wait, don't you?"


	5. Chapter 5

The Doctor and Clara were laid out on two brightly coloured deck chairs facing the Pacific Ocean. The beach was not in the best of shape after the cyclone, with debris of all kinds strewn across the sand. Some foam sat in clumps like dirty cappuccino froth.

Clara tapped her feet together, happily enjoying a bit of sun after being couped up for days indoors.

"How did you get hired anyway?" she asked. "You didn't just hypnotise the other candidates? Hide them all somewhere?"

The Doctor looked highly offended. "I did an interview, Clara. Got the job fair and square."

"Seriously? _You_ did an interview?"

* * *

 **TUESDAY JANUARY 27 13:38PM AEST +10:00 UTC**

"You come very highly recommended, Mr Smith," said Greg as he reclined in his high-backed executive chair. He leafed through The Doctor's resume.

The Doctor sat stiffly across the desk. He was wearing his usual black suit but had gone to the trouble of affixing a red silk tie to match the jacket's lining. It was a passable attempt at interview attire.

"You have William Henry Gates III listed as a referee?" Greg asked incredulously.

"Ah, yes. Bill. Good friend of mine. Helped him out with a bit of code back in the early 80s."

Greg looked a bit stunned. "With your experience, I'm not sure why you would want to work at such a small operation."

He leaned forward and placed The Doctor's papers on the desk. "MerrickCorp has only one hundred employees. You've worked for much larger companies."

"Looking for a sea change," The Doctor offered with smile. "Corporate life is very draining and I'm not as young as I used to be."

"We're not ageist here, Mr Smith. The most suitable person gets the job regardless of whether they've been in the industry for ten years or thirty."

"Good to know," he said with a nod. And with that, The Doctor abruptly stood up and took his sonic screwdriver out. "We'll just skip the boring bits, shall we?"

"Boring bits? Mr Smith, this is a job interview!"

"Yes, yes," The Doctor said dismissively as he finally found the setting he was looking for. "We'll just get to the bit where you hire me and.."

Greg's eyes widened as The Doctor pointed the pulsing sonic at his head. "What are you doing?"

"Hypnotising you."

Greg went slack-jawed for a moment, like he was lost in a daydream. The Doctor waved the sonic in a slow circular motion at his head.

"That should do it," he said finally, flicking the device off. The Doctor tucked the sonic back into his pocket, sat back down and waited.

Greg suddenly shook his head and rubbed his temple. "Ah, sorry. Just lost my train of thought there."

"You just said that I was hired," The Doctor prompted.

"Oh, yes. Of course! Sorry."

Greg stood and extended his hand to The Doctor. "Welcome to MerrickCorp."


End file.
